


Soulmates

by alecmagnuslwb



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Light Angst, john's just always instantly enamored by her, mostly cute, the ol' classic you can't see in color till you meet your soulmate trope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:14:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25729513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alecmagnuslwb/pseuds/alecmagnuslwb
Summary: Everything is black and white until he meets her. Literally.
Relationships: John Constantine/Zatanna Zatara
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	Soulmates

**Author's Note:**

> Writer’s month day 5, prompt: Soulmates.

Everyone has a soulmate, even impossibly a bastard like John Constantine. Not that he thinks he’s got some great, beautiful souled person out there that’s destine to be his. No John assumes that a bastard is destine for a bastard, no matter their gender.

He hasn’t really thought about soulmates in years, not since he was a child and his mother told him stories about the moment everything bursts into color and you suddenly know the names of every color before you. He’s grown accustom to the way his eyes see the world, but lately the black and white vision he lives with every day has grown tiresome. He plays with his magic, still learning and growing stronger every day and wonders if it casts in different colors, wonders what those colors are if they do. He lights the flames in the palms of his hands and can only feel the burn without being amazed by the orange and red glow he’s been told they have whatever that might mean.

He's barely over twenty but he’s old enough to know that the world isn’t black and white by any means. It’s mottled with greys and shades of everything that he can’t see, but he can sense.

Tonight is another black and white night for him. He pushes open the door to the bar he’d seen a few nights ago when heading back to the motel he’s been crashing in. A rush of noise washes over him as he steps inside some hokey rock band that fancies themselves the next Billy Idol playing a horrendous cover of ‘White Wedding’ onstage.

John grits his teeth praying they don’t butcher something by The Clash next, he’ll have to leave America immediately if they do.

He shuffles over to the bar, taking a seat on an empty stool near the far end and flags down the bartender ordering himself a whiskey. He gives the man behind the bar a wink when he places the drink down in front of him and the bartender walks away completely ignoring the flirtation.

John just shrugs unbothered by the rejection and spins around watching as the band plays the last chorus. When they’re done the other patrons clap and John hopes they’re all drunk with the enthusiasm they’re putting behind it. The room transforms into a clutter of voices and clinking glasses after that so John swivels back around downing his first drink and ordering a second.

Behind the bar a poster catches his eye, a top hat adorning the center. He’s just reading the words Mistress of Magic across it when a deeply bad and deeply fake British accent sounds into the microphone on stage. John turns back around to find the lead Billy Idol wannabe yelling for everyone to quiet down.

“Alright, now we know your claps for us were bullshit and this is the real show you’re here for,” he says gesturing to the space around. “So, without further ado, the Mistress of Magic, the silver-tongued siren, everyone’s favorite majestic magician Zatanna!”

If John had known there was a magic show tonight, he might have found a better drinking hole. He’s got no need to watch someone pull cheap tricks and poorly concealed rabbits out of a hat.

John’s about to swivel back around, order one more drink and be on his way, but he finds himself frozen halfway when Zatanna appears on stage, not through a cloud of smoke hiding a trap door in the floor, but through a real bonafide portal.

That alone would capture his attention, but the woman herself has him sliding back to face the stage completely. She’s stunning, the goth princess of his dreams in knee high boots, fishnets, leather shorts and a corset with a bowtie.

Her arms are bare something whispered under her breath sending a trail of sparkling magic down them as she flips her long dark hair over her shoulder and gives the patrons a dazzling smile.

John doesn’t need to see color to know she’s a vision, but he’d pay good money to know what colors that magic is flowing down her arms and how it looks against her skin.

“Ready to see some real magic tonight folks?” she says, her voice a melody. The audience roars and if John wasn’t so frozen in place he might too.

That’s when the show really begins, she conquers the stage, keeping everyone’s eyes on her the entire time. She twists magic around the room, her power strong and thick in the air. She speaks in languages he doesn’t recognize until eventually he realizes it’s backwards magic, a rarely used magic that she’s clearly no novice in.

There’s something about her that’s familiar, but he doesn’t have the right of mind to think too hard about it. To think beyond the absolute captive hold she has on him with every move she makes and every spell she utters.

Zatanna knows how to work a stage, how to hold an audience in the palm of her hand.

He’s certain he could meet his soulmate right this second and have the world burst into color and he still wouldn’t be able to tear his eyes away from the front of this bar.

He doesn’t so much as blink for the forty-five minutes she’s on stage.

“Alright, for my last trick, I need another volunteer,” she says and hands shoot up all across the bar, even the bartender who seemingly has a job to do sticks his high in the sky.

She scans the audience carefully tapping her finger to her lips until her eyes fall on him.

“You,” she says pointing his way. “At the bar.”

John pulls his eyes from the stage for the first time certain she’s pointing at someone else, like the eager bartender behind him.

“Yeah you in the tie, that’s right, come on,” she says making a come-hither motion with her finger that John couldn’t resist if he was chained down on his deathbed.

John slips from his seat picking his way through the bar and onto the stage. And if she was gorgeous from far away up-close John’s not sure how anyone could resist those piercing eyes. He wonders what color they are.

“I’m Zatanna, as you know,” she says smiling at the audience quickly before holding out a hand in his direction. Her nails are painted with little clusters of shimmering stars on them, a tiny detail he couldn’t see all the way from the bar. “And what’s your name handsome?”

He tries to force down a smile and fails, there’s no doubt she calls every poor schmuck she pulls up on the stage that and makes them blush, he’s not special even if he wishes he was.

“John,” he says putting his hand in hers and that’s when it happens. His vision blurs for a moment and then like paint being splattered on a canvas color blooms all around him. The curtains are red, the stage a deep brown and Zatanna’s eyes a deep, dark blue. She’s looking into his eyes too, a small soft smile on her lips.

Her eyes drop down to his tie briefly and she chuckles then quickly as if their whole worlds hadn’t just changed she’s turning back to the audience. A performers quick mind keeping up appearances for the show.

John barely recalls the trick he assists her with just knows that he trusts her implicitly and at one point ends up floating. When it’s over and he’s stepping down from the stage she touches his hand softly, a silent request to stay so she can find him after the show.

John nods stepping away as she gives the audience one last light show. A burst of rainbow sparks from her fingers before she disappears into another portal casting him one last glance.

John’s finally pulled from his daze once she’s out of sight and immediately books it for the door. He should stick around, really meet this person who’s his person, but he can tell from one look at that soft smile she’d given him she’s far too good to be stuck with the likes of him.

The universe fucked up, there’s no way a man like him deserves a woman like her.

He doesn’t get far, just barely out the door when a shimmering portal like the one on stage appears in front of him and Zatanna steps out now in a leather jacket with a shining silver top hat pin on the lapel.

“Oh, you’re here,” she says looking at him with that same soft smile.

He looks up and around her wondering if he can make his escape.

“Oh, you’re leaving,” she says disappointed. Her hands fall to her side uselessly.

“Look, it’s not you,” he starts and she lets out a sharp wounded breath.

“Ouch, I’ve heard that one before,” she says attempting to laugh off what she’s seeing as a rejection. He’s not rejecting her though, far from it, he’d love to curl up next to her and never leave he’s fairly certain. He’s rejecting the universe cursing this soft smiling magical being to getting saddled with a jaded, piss poor soulmate like him.

He shakes his head. “It’s not that, I swear it, I’d stay in a heartbeat if it was only my heart on the line. It’s just there is no way a woman like you deserves to get stuck with a mess like me, trust me.”

He sidesteps and starts to walk past her, but a hand on his forearm pulls him to a stop. She spins around so she’s standing face to face with him.

“Look I won’t act like I understand the magic or science or whatever it is behind this system and I won’t act like it’s perfect, but something out there thinks you and I fit, thinks we could fit. So, shouldn’t I get to decide what I deserve?” she says with pleading eyes. “Please, don’t take that choice away from me.”

John takes a deep breath. He really doesn’t want to hurt her, but if he leaves right now that will hurt her more than if he stays and maybe one day down the line messes up. She’s right. He’s a coward who tried to run.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” John says pulling his pack of cigarettes out. He pats around for a lighter and Zatanna leans in saying a quiet ‘erif’ her fingertip bursting in a yellow orange flame and lighting the cigarette he sticks between his lips.

“You’re forgiven, as long you don’t run off on me again,” she says smiling as she blows out the flame on her finger.

He takes a long drag blowing it off to the side and away from her.

“I won’t,” he says hoping he can keep that as a promise.

“Great. So, let’s try this again, I’m Zatanna Zatara,” she says holding out her hand. Zatara. Suddenly the familiarity of her makes sense, the backwards magic coming so easily for her much clearer now. If he was worried he wasn’t worthy of her before the last name doesn’t help that worry lessen. She’s a magical dynasty doing stage work in a dive bar.

He doesn’t run just because of that shocking development however.

“John Constantine,” he says putting his hand in hers. This time there’s no blurring vision, no burst of color, just a warm, soft hand holding onto his.

She smiles, “I like your tie John Constantine.” He looks down noticing the bright red of it for the first time. The irony that the rest of both of their outfits are black and white on the night where color came into their lives is not lost on him. “It’s a nice pop of color.”

He laughs, letting go of her hand to tug at the tie.

“I didn’t actually know it was red when I nicked it.”

“Nicked it?” she says eyes going a little wide. It sounds a little funny coming from her lips with no British accent.

“Uh,” he says twisting up his face. “Bought it?”

The question mark on his words is clear and she just laughs threading her arm through his as he tosses his cigarette at his feet stamping it out.

“Come on we’re having dinner and you’re telling me all about how you stole that tie, soulmate,” she says tugging him along into the neon lit night.

He likes the sound of that, even if he’s convinced the universe made a colossal mistake.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr:[alecmagnuslwb](https://alecmagnuslwb.tumblr.com/)


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